Checking Notes
by Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute
Summary: He seemed perfect, at least in her eyes. But what was she in his? Multiple times, people asked her if she liked him. But she couldn't admit it. So she said no.This worried her greatly. If she couldn't admit she liked him to herself, how in the world would she be able to tell it to he, himself? Therefore, she took the immature way: notes. 'Do you like me? Check yes or no.'
1. Yes

**_:-: Checking Notes :-:_**

* * *

_'Do you like me? Check yes or no.'_

She couldn't believe she had sunk to this level — asking him if he liked her through a _note_ of all things. She was scared of rejection. Scared that he'd turn her down.

It wasn't like her to take the less blunt route — she had a tendency to normally be a straight forward person — but this… this was all new to her. These feelings, those looks;_everything_ about this.

It confused her to no end, and honestly, she hated that feeling. Couldn't it be better if she just hated him, thus, none of these unusual feelings would be aroused?

However, that was a problem; she _couldn't_ hate him. It was nearly impossible. As much as she tried to think of something, there was nothing at fault she could find.

He seemed perfect, at least in her eyes.

But what was she in his?

Multiple times, people — her friends, his friends — asked her if she liked him. But she couldn't admit it. So she said no.

This worried her greatly. If she couldn't admit she liked him to herself, how in the world would she be able to tell it to he, himself?

Therefore, she took the immature way: notes.

She still couldn't believe she had written that. It was just so… un-personal and she couldn't pour any of the wild emotions she was feeling into those mere, eight words.

Sure, if he said no, her heart would hurt less, but quite frankly, if someone asked her if she liked them in a note, she'd check no, just because of the way they asked.

She hoped he would react differently than she would.

A part of her wanted him to say no. Maybe then, her fluttering heart wouldn't be impatient, or well, _fluttery_, any longer. Maybe then, she'd be able to move on from him.

But what if he said yes? What then?

Would he work up the courage to ask her out? Would she get over the embarrassed, blushy feeling, and actually do what her heart wanted her to?

Or would she cower, listening to mind, over her aching heart?

She couldn't decide. She just _couldn't_.

Her head dropped into her hands, as she sat in her seat, the wait for him to respond to the note, completely agonizing. Was he disgusted by her, as she was with herself, for asking him this way? Was he purposely not responding, to make her wait, and be punished, for whatever reason?

A hand tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and she jerked her head up, hoping it was him, returning the note.

But no, it wasn't. All it was, was a girl who had asked to borrow her text book for a moment. She subconsciously glanced over to the table where he was sitting, immediately blushing when she caught him staring at her.

Could it actually be true? Could he actually like her?

Once, her friend had told her that she could tell that he did, simply by the way he looked at her. Was that the look? Her eyebrows furrowed. That's the way he's been looking at her all year — nothing different.

The bell rang, and he winked slightly at her, cutting off their staring session, making her all the more confused. She watched him leave, before she gathered her own belongings with a grudging sigh.

A piece of paper slipped out of the textbook, and curiously, she picked it up.

Her eyes roamed across the paper, for only a second, before a small smile broke out on her face.

_'Yes.'_


	2. Meet Me After Class: Lockers

_**:-: Checking Notes :-:**_

* * *

She walked into her next class, a little bounce in her step, rather than the sulking she had planned to do. Her face felt bright and lively, her mouth quirked into a small, knowing smile.

Nobody knew why, although she planned to tell her friends later, at lunch. Well, nobody, but him, she guessed. Unless he was even denser than she thought. Besides, he wasn't even in her next period cl —

Wait, he was. He was actually in her class.

Her eyes connected with his, her cheeks heating up in mortification. She was quick to drop the gaze, and slowly walk to her seat, which was conveniently — _not _— in front of him.

She slumped down in her seat, hiding her blushing face behind her hair. The intense feeling of him staring at the back of her head made her cheeks fire up more.

Class began, the teacher droning off to whatever subject they were teaching — honestly, she couldn't care less, even though she valued her grades. Right now, all she could feel and_comprehend_ was that he liked her and was staring at her.

Straightening her back, she tried to glimpse discreetly back at him, as she dropped her pencil on 'accident'.

He was quick to pick it up for her, and their eyes connected, fingers slightly touching. A spark jolted through her, and she snapped her hand back, awkwardly clearing her throat. The heat rushed to her face once more, and she wondered how long she would continue to look like a tomato.

The class bored her to no end, and she slouched back in her seat, not able to focus her attention on the subject they were learning, for even a _moment_. Every nerve on her body was alive, and maximized more than twice their normal sensitivity, as he leaned forward for whatever reason, his light breaths puffing on her neck, moving down her spine.

They were there for a second, as he reached to do whatever he was doing, and then the puffs of breath were gone. But the tingling sensation still shivered down her back.

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around to face him, biting her lip. But he ignored her, paying attention to what the teacher was lecturing about. She turned back around, biting her lip even harder, and noticed the note on her desk.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, because it was, _for sure_, from him. With trembling fingers that she tried to steady, she grasped the note gingerly, and unfolded it.

The creases were perfect, as was the handwriting inside, compared to her quick, messy fold, and hard-to-decipher chicken scratch she called cursive. All other sounds in the class became silent, and all she could hear was the thumping of her heart.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Her eyes were downcast as she read every word of the note over and over, under the desk. Over and over, she read those eight words.

_Do _you_ like me? Check yes or no._

That was the moment her heart soared. This note and the one before was proof he felt something towards her — something that he was able to admit willingly.

The only problem was, would she be able to do the same?

And did she _actually_ like him?

Could she admit that to even herself?

_Do you like him? _She wondered to herself. She shook her head, carefully folding the note back, and setting it on the corner of her desk.

It was too sudden — she needed to think.

From behind her, came a light sigh, which she recognized as disappointment, and somewhat sorrow.

Immediately feeling guilty, she hastily tore another piece of paper out of her notebook, scrawling down a phrase without thinking.

Then, she folded it up and set it on the desk behind her, when the teacher's back was turned.

Only when the bell rang, signaling it was lunch time, she realized what she wrote.

_Meet me after class. Lockers._


	3. The Final Note

_**:-: Checking Notes :-:**_

* * *

One thing she did, was keep to her word. Even though she wished on her life that she hadn't written that note, what's done is done, and she exited the classroom with full intentions of meeting him at the lockers.

Which is exactly what she did. Everyone else had vacated the hallways, in a mad dash to get to the lunchroom, so it was just the two of them. Alone.

She felt more flustered than she ever had. His shining brown eyes stared at her, as he approached her. With each step he took towards her, it seemed as if her heart accelerated, and her face turned a new shade.

To an outsider, she supposed it might look like a predator stalking its prey situation, but all in all, it wasn't. His eyes had a curiously glint to it, and when he stopped in front of her, his head cocked to the side in an inquisitive manner.

She fought the want to hide, or run away.

She fought it with all her heart. Because that was the only thing wanting her to stay.

"Hi," she muttered, looking at the ground, trying not to squirm under his silent gaze. When she looked back up, his eyes were downcast on the ground as well, a light shade of pink spread across his cheeks.

He leaned up on the lockers adjacent to her, his hands shoved in his pockets. She looked at him, taking in all the small details, ranging from his black hair that was slightly spiked up, to his dark blue glasses in his bag that he managed to look cute in, but wasn't wearing at the moment, to his red and black sneakers on his feet.

Her eyes trained on the ground, before flickering up to his eyes again. She stared into them, trying to calm her racing heart, before she uttered a single word, almost so quiet, she couldn't even hear it. "Yes."

Even though it was quiet, relief suddenly spilled through her, and she realized, she had _finally_ admitted it. Not just to him, or anybody, for that matter, but _herself_.

She blushed, looking at the ground, when she realized he had heard her yes. The entire atmosphere of the hallway seemed to change after she did; it was more… calm. Peaceful.

Maybe it was because she couldn't hear the thundering of her heart in her chest any longer.

He stepped even closer to her, a small smile curving upward on his lips. Then, he took a piece of paper, neatly folded, out of his pocket. He unfolded it, smoothed it out once, and held it up for her to read.

She grinned up at him, shyly, and grabbed a pen from her bag. Taking the slip of paper from him, she flattened it against the lockers, quickly writing a small mark on it.

After that, she capped her pen shut, turned around with a smile on her face, and handed the note back to him. His eyes glanced at it, brightening as he saw what she had scribbled on it.

"Lunch?" he asked, in his slightly husky voice, a smile on his face. She nodded softly, and they walked into the lunchroom. Right outside the double doors, she grasped his hand tightly, surprising both him _and_ her.

But he held her hand, his larger hand gently caressing hers.

Together, they walked into the cafeteria, hand in hand.

_'Will you go out with me?' _The note had said.

And she had checked yes.


End file.
